


Five Ways Nick Didn't Meet Cassie and One Way He Did

by Doranwen



Category: Push (2009)
Genre: 5 Things, F/M, First Meetings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-25
Updated: 2015-11-25
Packaged: 2018-05-03 08:05:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5283155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doranwen/pseuds/Doranwen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In every universe, Nick Gant is destined to meet Cassie Holmes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Ways Nick Didn't Meet Cassie and One Way He Did

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vera_invenire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vera_invenire/gifts).



> Big thanks to my betas, thedevilchicken and drayton.

"Jonah!" The woman at the door greets Nick's dad with arms open wide, but he hangs back, glancing nervously around. They've been on the run for what feels like ages, staying with friends, acquaintances, creepy people Nick's not sure if his dad actually **knows** . . . He trusts his dad to protect him but there's always going to be a part of him that won't relax.

"This is my son Nick," his dad says, putting a strong hand on Nick's shoulder to draw him forward.

The woman has long blond hair, and Nick shivers under her gaze. "Yes, this is him." She smiles with satisfaction.

Nick's pretty good with clues. "You're a—a Watcher?" he manages to get out.

She smiles at him. "You're perceptive too, of course." She reaches down and picks up a little girl who has just toddled over to the doorway. The child has wavy blond hair and stares at him with her thumb in her mouth. "Meet my daughter Cassie."

"Hi, Cassie," Nick says.

She pulls her thumb out and breaks out into a big grin. "Nick!" she shrieks happily.

* * *

Nick settles at a table with his tray of burritos and tacos. He was eating well this week; all the time spent opening locks at the train station lockers paid off with a bag full of cash. He unwraps a burrito, savoring the first bite.

His eyes catch sight of a woman and child entering. The woman is dark-haired and matronly; the child a slender girl with flaxen hair and an adorable smile. Nick watches them as they order at the counter. When the girl finishes, she turns and big blue eyes stare into Nick's. "May I go sit down?" the girl asks her companion.

Granted permission, she comes over to Nick and settles herself across from him. "I'm Cassie, and I'm seven years old. What's your name?" she asks him. She gazes at him, hardly blinking.

Nick is amused at her direct manner. "I'm Nick, and I'm seventeen." He doesn't see a reason to hide his age from this child.

The woman hurries over. "Cassie! Why are you bothering this young man? You don't even know him!"

"I do! I've Seen him sometimes; he's nice." Nick can hear the capital on the verb as the woman's face grows pale for a second. "He's going to help me get Mom back," she continues. The statement is simple and confident; Nick marvels at her faith.

* * *

Nick eats his lunch with a careful eye on the table next to him. The man sitting with his back to the room has a bulging pocket, and Nick can **just** see the edge of the wallet peeking out. His fingers itch to stretch forward and call a few bills out of it, but he needs to wait for the right moment. He's concentrating on giving the appearance of doing nothing but eating the sandwich when a girl sits down in front of him. She's young, maybe eleven, with blond scraggly hair and blue eyes that look right into him.

He's just starting to scowl when she says, "You don't want to do that." She holds out a notebook, open to a crude drawing.

Nick struggles to see the scribbles as anything recognizable, but spots an attempt at a jail. The next second, the man is pulling out his wallet and looking through the bills, declaring they have enough for a particular attraction. If he had taken the largest bill . . . Nick sucks in a deep breath.

"He would have noticed one was missing, and you'll note there's a pair of cops right over there." She tilts her head to indicate the direction.

Nick breathes out slowly. "You're a Watcher, then."

"And you're a Mover."

More confirmation of who she was; he hadn't used a bit of his power yet. "Why did you warn me?"

"Because you're capable of a lot more than cons and petty theft on Coney Island, and we're gonna have to work together if we're going to go up against Division," she answers without blinking.

Nick should laugh at the idea that a second-rate Mover and a Watcher not into her teens yet could do anything against Division, but he'll hear her out first.

* * *

Nick helps "lift" the body into the van before taking his seat. It's a good day at Division: another terrorist in the Resistance captured with only minor injuries to his team. He'll have to have a private celebration with Kira tonight.

"Hey Nick, want to catch a few beers at our usual when we get back?" his teammate asks.

"I got to take him to the lab first, maybe I'll catch up with you later," Nick answers. Their captive is tranquilized, but they don't like to take chances.

The lab isn't Nick's favorite place; it's too sterile, too much white everywhere. He sees the new subject transferred into the hands of the scientists, and turns to leave. He's passing by an open doorway when he hears it.

"Nick!" The voice is strong and weak all at once, coming from inside the room.

He's more curious than anything; who in here would know his name? He steps through the doorway to see a teenage girl strapped to a bed, blond hair splayed across the pillow. "Who are you?" he asks her.

"Cassie Holmes. And you're Nick Gant." She smiles, blue eyes boring into him.

"A Watcher." It didn't take long to figure that out: people with other powers generally didn't stay in the lab long. "Nice to meet you, but I've got plans and they don't involve chatting with terrorists."

Cassie lets out a funny sound, half snort, half giggle. "You really think I'm a terrorist?"

"You wouldn't be strapped there if you weren't." He doesn't deal with identifying the terrorists; he'll leave that to the higher-ups.

"They Pushed you pretty hard, didn't they?"

Nick frowns. "What are you talking about? I volunteered for this job."

"I've been Watching you for years. I Saw them kill your father because he wouldn't work for them."

Nick finds himself listening despite his better judgment, but he has to scoff at this. "Now there you're full of it; my dad was hit by a car. You're making it all up."

"Fine, don't believe me. But you will at least take your gift?" Nick follows her head turn to see an origami flower lying on the nearby table. She continues, "It's not real, but you'll have to admit I'm a little limited here."

He stares at the flower, faint memories in the back of his head coming to the forefront. He can't place where he is, or what's happening, but he remembers his dad telling him something about a girl giving him a flower. _"You help her, and you help us all,"_ his dad's voice tells him from the recesses of his memory.

"You remember that?" Cassie's voice is soft, and he nods, unable to speak. "If you trust your dad, then trust me."

So he does.

* * *

Nick waits at the bus station, tossing a pair of dice in his hands restlessly. They need some good luck, he thinks: after Julio's capture, it would be only a matter of time before the rest of them were picked off. Thankfully Hook had a suggestion: "I know this girl, she's a great Watcher. I'll have her meet you." All Nick's been told is that she's in her teens and she's got blond hair with blue and green streaks in it. She'll know him, though, if she's as good as Hook says.

The bus finally comes, and he watches the departing passengers. He identifies her instantly, and her eyes meet his. "Nick," she acknowledges once she's within five feet of him. "I'm Cassie." She holds out a slim hand, and he takes it. She's probably sixteen or so, but she has the poise of someone years older.

"Glad you were willing to help us out," Nick tells her. "Hook said you were really good."

"Hook wasn't the only reason I came," she says cryptically. She doesn't explain herself, and Nick isn't sure he should ask. The rest of the conversation is focused entirely on their mission; Nick pushes her words to the back of his mind.

She turns out to be every bit as good as Hook promised, and then some; she has contingency plans for Nick's contingency plans, and they're in and out before Division can blink. Julio's back, and they've picked up even a few new recruits.

At their next safe house, they have a party. Nick pauses between slices of pizza to find Cassie on the balcony, looking out over the city. "Thank you for all your help," he tells her. "We couldn't have done it without you. We made a great team."

She smiles. "Make."

He looks at her quizzically.

"We **make** a good team. Unless you're kicking me off this early." There's an impish look in her eyes.

"No . . ." Nick trails off.

Cassie grins. "I knew you wouldn't. Besides, we hadn't gotten to this yet." Nick's brain barely has a chance to register the words before her mouth is on his, kissing him. He stares at her, starting to open his mouth. Cassie puts a finger on his lips. "I've already Seen this too," she says, and goes up on tiptoe to kiss him again.

* * *

The gun's shaky as it hangs in mid-air, so Nick concentrates on holding it steady with his mind. It's taking a few moments out of the time that he'd planned on using to book it out of Hong Kong, but he has to get better at his powers **somehow**. The phone startles him, and the gun immediately plummets to the ground. He dives for it, clasping it between his hands mere centimeters from the ground.

The phone continues to ring, so he dashes over to the stand and picks it up. It's not a number he recognizes, and the young voice greeting him by name is not one he recognizes. _Chalk another one up for a really weird day_ , he thinks as he asks, "Who is this?" He's not thrilled at the idea of an unexpected visitor, and jerks at the sound of the door pounding. Her previous words notwithstanding, he's not taking any chances, and keeps his gun at the ready.

Oddly enough, the peephole doesn't reveal any person standing in front of the door. He'll have to open the door to see better. He carefully clicks the safety off and pulls back the door suddenly to reveal a . . . **kid**?

"Put that thing away," she orders, and she strides in all casual and familiar, blond hair with pink highlights and a mouth full of **braces**. She's wearing a mishmash of print T-shirt and patterned skirt, which is hiked up on one side by the leopard print bag hanging from a shoulder.

None of this makes any sense to Nick. _Great, now I have a random stranger in my apartment. And why does she seem to think we've already met?_


End file.
